The Warbler Handbook
by IrethR
Summary: ...As explained by Nick and Jeff. Kurt's not sure he's ready for this special brand of crazy. A series of interconnected one- shots. Humor/Friendship/Romance. Rated T. Up for adoption, see profile.
1. Prologue

**Titel: The Warbler Handbook**

**Chapter One: Prologue**

**Summary: The oddities of our favourite Warblers, as explained by Nick and Jeff to a disbelieving Kurt, who wonders why he's only hearing about all this five months in.**

**Categories: Humor/ Friendship/ Romance**

**Rating: T fors ome potty- mouthed Warblers**

**Pairings: Blaine/ Kurt. I'm not sure on anyone else yet, but I'm open to suggestions…**

**AN: Well, hello there!**

**As I wrote in an AN in the thirteenth chapter of 'Of Warblers and Woods', I'm starting a story filled with interconnected one -shots about the Warblers. I'm sticking with most, if not all, the characters I thought up for OWW (the acronym used to be WW in my head, and then I noticed that that might not be the nicest acronym), because I've grown strangely attached to them, even though they haven't been very prominently featured in the story yet. I love them and I refuse to let go of them right now.**

**This story will be updated whenever inspiration strikes and time allows it. Could be three times –unlikely, but still- a week, could be three times a month. I can assure you now though, that no month will go by without at least one or two updates. Also, they'll be longer than the prologue, since it's depressingly short.**

**This story will follow Kurt as he's being instructed further in the ways of Dalton by Nick and Jeff. In my head, this falls after the second story in my three story arc ( of which only one is being written on at the moment and is being posted. An arc for which I have no name for yet, by the way. Note to self: Think up a name), but it can be read without having read 'Of Warblers and Woods'. **

**I'm thinking of taking prompts for this story. If any of you (here I am, arrogantly assuming that people will actually read this…) would like to see a special Warbler- rule written, no matter how silly, feel free to prompt one in a review.**

**For those of you who made it this far: Yay you^^ On with the prologue now then :P Enjoy!**

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><p>"Wait, so let me get this straight," Kurt said as he was dragged into a side room by two grinning Warblers, ignoring the grins on their faces at his poor choice of words.<p>

"There's an actual handbook the Warblers live by? Why has no one told me about this? I've been here for almost five whole months!"

Nick shrugged, taking a seat on one of the couches in the small common room Jeff and he had dragged Kurt off to. This room was sparsely populated, most Dalton students preferring the larger common room three halls down.

"It looked like you were doing fine without knowing the actual rules—"

"- Wait, there are actual rules?", Kurt interrupted, an eyebrow raised in disbelief.

Here, Jeff came into the conversation, reluctantly tearing his eyes away from the way the light from outside his the glass figurines in the room, his fingers itching to catch the moment on camera:

"Not _rules_ per se. Guidelines, maybe."

Nick shot Jeff an unimpressed look, quickly working to take the look of slight relief on Kurt's face away by saying: "Don't listen to Jeff, Kurt. These are rules to live by. You follow the handbook, or you'll be one dead Warbler."

A pause followed wherein Kurt looked at Nick disbelievingly, taking a seat himself across from the brunette Warbler. Jeff, staring trance- like at the play of light again, said automatically, as if the two of them had given this speech many times before- and seeing as they'd been on the Warblers since Freshmen year, they might as well have- :

"He means it figuratively of course. It's very unlikely that you'll be lynched if you don't follow the handbook."

"Practically improbable," Nick added.

"Utter humiliation is more likely."

"Yeah. Hey, remember when they took Blaine's gel in retaliation for him breaking rule number 12 and didn't return it for a week?"

"Good stuff. Good stuff."

"Wait," Kurt interrupted, dying to know which rule had made Blaine go gel- free for a week. Something Kurt believed should happen every week, since Blaine looked absolutely delicious without his gel in. In a purely platonic, friendly way of course. Right.

"What's rule number 12?"

"All in good time, young Warbler," Nick answered, trying to smile mysteriously, and failing. "You'll know all of the rules by heart soon enough. Most of them are common sense rules anyways."

"Not all of them, mind," Jeff added, trying to unhook the complex lock he had placed on his camera bag to prevent people from doing damage to, or using, his camera.

"Okay…" Kurt said, dragging the word out a bit. "Where can I get a copy of this handbook then?"

Jeff turned back to them, looking disappointed that a cloud had dared to move in front of the sun just as he had taken his camera out of its bag to capture the beautiful play of light.

"Oh, but the rules aren't written down anywhere else but in our minds! That's what Nick and I are here for, Kurty- bear. We're your walking, talking handbooks!"

Nick nodded in agreement, grinning wickedly. "Exactly. No worries, Kurt Warbler. We'll guide you through the oddities of Warbler- life."

For some strange reason, this didn't really help take away the apprehension Kurt felt.

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><p><strong>So<strong>, **thoughts? I know it's short, but it's just the introduction. The actual chapters will be longer, of course. **

**Do you think you could like this?**

**Also, once again: Feel free to prompt me!**

**Till next time,**

**~ IrethR**


	2. Rule 1: The Headmaster's choice

**Titel: The Warbler Handbook**

**Chapter two: Rule number 1. The Headmaster's Choice**

**Summary: The oddities of our favourite Warblers, as explained by Nick and Jeff to a disbelieving Kurt, who wonders why he's only hearing about all this five months in.**

**Categories: Humor/ Friendship/ Romance**

**Rating: T for some potty- mouthed Warblers**

**Pairings: Blaine/ Kurt. I'm not sure on anyone else yet, but I'm open to suggestions…**

**AN: Hi again! I can't believe people actually liked the prologue! It was so….short. But, anyways, thank you for the lovely response so far! People have already alerted this and there were even two wonderful reviews! Thanks!**

**As promised, this one is longer than the prologue. Also, wicked soon o.O**

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><p>Two weeks had passed and Kurt still hadn't learned anything new in his opinion. Jeff and Nick hadn't really spoken to him since the whole 'We're here to guide you in the ways of the Warbler, young Padawan,'- speech. Besides the usual comments of "Pass the salt" (Nick) and "Could you sit still for a moment, Kurt? There's an awesome shade on your chin and I want to photograph it" (Jeff), of course.<p>

Kurt had pretty much decided that he didn't really care either way. He had been at Dalton for five months, and never once had he been shunned by the Warblers for something he might have done wrong. If you ignore the canary- in- a- coalmine joke, that is. And that was funny, no matter what they pretended to think.

It was at the end of the Friday morning Warbler practise when he was forced to revaluate this opinion, though. After they had finished their rendition of 'Another One Bites the Dust' (Which Kurt privately thought was much better than Vocal Adrenaline's version had been. Suck it, St. Jerkface.) he noticed that the Warblers weren't immediately dispersing, like they normally would.

Instead, the boys were purposefully loitering, trying to act inconspicuous (And really, if Trent had wanted to act inconspicuous, he shouldn't have put those blinking lights in his 'fro) and cluttering around the Council table.

Kurt turned to Blaine: "Did I miss a solo we were supposed to sign an audition sheet for?"

"Hmm?" Blaine replied, distractedly. "No, not that I'm aware of. Why?"

Kurt narrowed his eyes a bit. Why was Blaine acting like he wasn't listening to Kurt? Blaine always listened to him. Even when he was blathering on about Lady Gaga, whom he know Blaine liked much less than his straight- crush (he really didn't understand why Blaine kept denying that) Katy Perry. Wait….was Blaine wearing…even _more_ gel than usual? Dear Gucci, it looked like water would slide right down the sides of that 'do.

Blaine suddenly straightened up. "I think we should suggest a poppy song we can all sway to, don't you?"

Before Kurt replied with a 'no, I really do not thinks so, no', Blaine was already out of his seat, striding over to the Council table, all the while turning his dapperness up a notch.

Kurt looked at the scene in front of him, wondering what was wrong with his team mates, if there wasn't a solo to an extremely popular song to sign up for. He decided it must be the pending exams that were causing the boys to act out of sorts and was ready to drop the matter in his head when he saw Adam offering to shine Wes's gavel (which he lovingly called 'Angie') for him. And Wes let him. Which was weird, 'cause Wes normally didn't let anyone near a ten foot radius of the wooden thing.

"What the Prada is going on here?", Kurt muttered to himself, looking on in disbelief as Adam took a brand new satin cloth from his bag and started shining Angie.

"I believe we might be able to answer that," Nick's voice came next to his ear as he plopped down next to him, Jeff sitting down at his other side. Kurt raised an eyebrow at the arm Nick had slung around his shoulder, wondering what it was doing there. Nick quickly removed it, acting like he had just felt the urge to scratch at the sofa.

"Well then," Kurt said slowly. "Enlighten me, Oh Great Ones."

"Did you hear that, Jeff, he called me 'great'!"

"Actually, I believe he called the both of us 'great'."

"Po-ta-to, staccato."

Ignoring the weird comparison, Kurt interrupted them before they could get any further and forget about him. "Boys. You were about to tell me what's going on?"

"Right!" Nick said, snapping out of it. "Thad's graduating this year, is what's going on."

Kurt thought about why this could be the most reasonable explanation and came up with nothing. "I don't get it."

"And Thad's a council member, see?" Jeff added, grinning at him as if this would make Kurt see what was going on. Funnily, it did.

"What had that got to—Oh. I see. There'll have to be a new council member, right?"

"Exactly," Nick answered. "And…?"

"And now they're all sucking up to the current council in the hopes that they'll be the third council member next year." Kurt finished, understanding flashing in his eyes.

"Ding, ding, ding!" Jeff said, acting like he was about to hand out an award or something.

"There's just one thing, though.", Nick started, looking at Kurt solemnly, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Which is…", Kurt needled, wanting to know more.

"The thing is," Jeff cut in, wanting to be the one to share this piece of news. "The council doesn't choose the next member. The Headmaster does."

Kurt grinned, a chuckle or two escaping.

"So, Adam's shining Wes's gavel for nothing?""

"Nothing's ever for nothing, Kurt, remember that," Nick said, acting like he was a wise old man.

Jeff, on the other hand, just grinned, explaining: "The Headmaster _does_ ask for the Council's opinion on who they think might be right for the position."

_Oh really now?_ Kurt thought. _Interesting…._

"So basically, this is the first rule – or guideline, stop looking at me like that Jeff- that you need to know.", Nick said.

"So; 'The Headmaster chooses the members, not the Council'." Kurt summarized.

"But ass kissing gets you a long way.", Jeff added.

"The Headmaster chooses the members, not the Council, but ass kissing goes a long way," Kurt amended. "Is that all?"

"Pretty much, yeah," Nick answered, looking proud that he had managed to teach the newest Warbler something. He then hinted, smirking mischievously:

"You know, I heard Thad mention that he needs a new wardrobe because his girlfriend really hates the way he dresses…."

"And I completely agree with her," Kurt immediately responded, thinking back to the day Thad had shown up for a study group session wearing a purple- and – orange hoodie. "That boy is a crime against fashion."

"So,", Jeff said, "Maybe it's time someone educated him in the ways of fashion?"

"Someone like you, maybe?" Nick tried. Kurt thought it over a bit, weighing the pros and cons, then nodded.

"Yeah, of course. Can't let him look like an idiot for much longer, now can I?"

Nick and Jeff exchanged a grin behind Kurt's back, loving how easy it was to impart wisdom on someone. Kurt stood up, turning back at them to thank them for their explanation, then strode of in the direction of the council table.

It was time to make the world a more beautiful place. One fashion victim at a time.

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><p><strong>So, that was rule number one. As I stated before: If you guys have a rule you'd love to see written; prompt it in a review. Chances are you'll see it written before you know it.<strong>

**Also, thoughts? **

**Till next time!**


	3. Rule 2: Angie

**Titel: The Warbler Handbook**

**Chapter two: Rule number 2. Angie**

**Summary: The oddities of our favourite Warblers, as explained by Nick and Jeff to a disbelieving Kurt, who wonders why he's only hearing about all this five months in.**

**Categories: Humor/ Friendship/ Romance**

**Rating: T for some potty- mouthed Warblers**

**Pairings: Blaine/ Kurt. I'm not sure on anyone else yet, but I'm open to suggestions. And by that I mean: please tell me what you'd like to see or what your favourite pairings are. No guarantees that I'll actually work them in, but odds are good.**

**Notes: Thanks again for the response, alerters and reviewer ^^ I appreciate it. I'd also really love to know what everyone thinks, so don't be afraid to review, okay? Even if it's just to say 'you suck'. Expect a scathing reply if you do say that, though. Reviews kinda make my day :P**

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><p>"Where is it? Oh God, oh God, oh God…. DAVID! WHERE IS IT?"<p>

Kurt rolled over in his bed, pulling his pillow out from under his head to cover his ears, refusing to give up the hours of sleep he still had left. He was well used to the randomness of the Dalton Academy dormitories by no wand was prepared to ignore the shouting- no, shrieking- coming from across the hall. Boys were doing crazy stuff all the time here, anyways.

"Wake up David! SHE'S GONE! David, WAKE UP! WHERE IS IT?"

Then again, he had never heard their Head Council member scream before either. What time was it anyways? Kurt blearily opened an eye to glance at the alarm clock next to his bed, proudly displaying it to be half past three. _In the morning? On Saturday? Oh, hell to the no._

Briefly wondering why his inner voice sounded an awful lot like his best female friend, Kurt sleepily sat up in his bad, noticing his roommate do the same in his bed. Harry was a lot more vocal about it, though.

"Oh, bloody buggering fuck. What is it this time? Did Nick hide Jeff's camera again? Did Blaine wake up without his gel? Did Daniel finally drive Cameron insane with his stupid, idiotic, irritating singing?"

Yeah, Harry was not a morning person. Or a _wake- up – in- the- middle- of- the- night- person_ for that matter.

"I don't know, Hare," Kurt muttered, trying to rub the sleep from his eyes while swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. "It sounds an awful lot like Wes though."

A sigh came from the other bed, Harry moving to stand up, eyes bleary and hair sticking up in every direction. Noticing this, Kurt quickly ran a hand through his own hair and then stood up himself, immediately missing the warmth his nice and comfy bed provided.

Harry had by then made his way to the light switch, knowing Kurt couldn't see a damn thing in the dark. He sighed again.

"Guess we better go check out what's bothering our esteemed leader, then. Brace yourself."

Kurt did, eyes squeezing shot against the sudden brightness of the lights flashing on. He grumbled something unintelligibly and then got up from the bed, slowly opening his eyes so he could see without being blinded. He was going to kill Wes for this. And if not kill, at least seriously maim.

The boys opened the door and stuck their heads out, not wanting to be in the line of fire in case Wes flipped his nut even more than he already was doing from the sounds of it. Seeing no flying objects, they stepped outside where more Warblers and regular boarders –who must have come up there because of the noise, since the Warbling boarders took the top floor- had already gathered, Harry grabbing his glasses from a side table on the way.

The boys gathered in the hall took each other in, all looking the same mix of tired, irritated and curious. Before any of them had the chance to say something, David came tumbling out of the room he and Wes shared, looking a lot less sleepy then the rest of them.

"I'm telling you, Wes, I don't know where that damn thing is! Maybe you left it in the rehearsal room or something!"

Wes came out of the room next, looking incredibly frazzled with his hair sticking up in every which way and a manic glint in his eye. It looked like he was on the verge of more yelling or crying.

"I would never leave Angie to fend for herself for that long without me!" he shrieked at David, looking more manic with each passing second. More yelling it was then. Then, David said what was possibly the stupidest thing he could have said in this situation:

"It's just a freaking gavel! Get over it, it's not like it has feelings. IT'S MADE FROM WOOD!"

Wes gasped, as did other boys –who had all thought this many times before, but had never dared voice it- , and pointed a finger at David shakily. David looked like he just now was realising what he had just said to his best friend.

"You…you…", was all Wes seemed able to say, looking more like he was about to cry instead of yell some more. David hesitatingly stepped forward, trying to reason with his friend.

"Wes, come on…"

"No! You stay away from me unless you find Angie and apologise to her…and me!"

David looked like he was about five seconds away from flipping his nut himself, but managed to reign it in some. He then turned to the shocked boys around them, and started, as if he hadn't noticed them there before. He then said to them:

"Look, if any of you guys know where Wes's gavel is, please come forth. It'll save us all a lot of trouble."

His eyes were pleading with them, begging to them to tell him where the wooden thing was so he could go back to bed and get some peace. His eyes slid over the boys, and then stopped.

"Hey, where are Blaine and Adam?"

"Right here," a voice cut through the group of boys, Nick leading the two bleary eyed boys to the front. "They had noise- cancelling ear plugs in, I'm guessing because of Geoffrey's notorious snores from next door."

The boys both nodded, Blaine waving at the rest of the boys gathered and trying to flatten his mop of curls some. Kurt thought this was adorable and tried to catch his eyes to grin teasingly at the lead soloist. Instead, his eyes caught Nick's, who raised two fingers in the air, mouthing something Kurt needed a few seconds for to understand and flicking his eyes towards a frantic Wes, who was being calmed down some by his roommate –who he obviously couldn't stay mad at for very long, especially in such a dire situation. _Rule number two._

Message understood, Kurt looked at Blaine again, who seemed to have a guilty little smile on his face. At first, Kurt thought that was because he hadn't heard the commotion, but then he began to think back on the argument Blaine and Wes had had a few days ago. His eyes widened. _No….he wouldn't have…._

Unfortunately, Wes had noticed this too, and his shakiness was replaced by righteous anger immediately. He broke free from David's gentle grasp and moved towards Blaine, poking him in the chest with an outstretched finger.

"You! You know where my Angie is, don't you? Tell me Blaine!"

Blaine for that matter, only smiled serenely and said: "What makes you think I know where your gavel is, Wes?"

"I know you have her, Anderson. You give her back to me, right now!"

Blaine, stepped back from the finger, smirking mischievously.

"No can do, Wesley."

Wes looked like he was about ready to start breathing fire, knowing someone knew where his precious gavel was, but not telling him about it like they _damn well should._

"And why can't you tell me?" he asked, trying to calm down some.

"Because she's somewhere over the Atlantic right now, of course," Blaine grinned.

Wes paled, David quickly stepping behind him to catch him, should he fall. The boys around them were staring at them as if they'd never seen anything like it before. Kurt leaned against his roommate, feeling a little faint himself. Who knew Blaine had it in him?

"This is because I mocked Katy Perry, isn't it?", Wes asked as Blaine started to walk away from them, the boys around him parting like the Red Sea. "At least tell me where she's going?"

Before Blaine entered his room, he turned around, smirking. He then uttered a single word that caused Wes to faint –and not being caught by David, who was looking at the curly haired soloist in disbelief- before closing the door behind him.

"Paris."

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><p>Rule number two: Wes's Gavel is <em>sacred<em>. (Touch it and die)

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><p><strong>So? Thoughts? Prompts? Pairing Ideas? Let me know ^^<strong>

**Till next time!**


	4. Rule 3: Paint it Pink

**Titel: The Warbler Handbook**

**Chapter three: Rule number 3. Paint it Pink**

**Summary: The oddities of our favourite Warblers, as explained by Nick and Jeff to a disbelieving Kurt, who wonders why he's only hearing about all this five months in.**

**Categories: Humor/ Friendship/ Romance**

**Rating: T for some potty- mouthed Warblers**

**Pairings: Blaine/ Kurt. I'm not sure on anyone else yet, but I'm open to suggestions. And by that I mean: please tell me what you'd like to see or what your favourite pairings are. No guarantees that I'll actually work them in, but odds are good as long as the pairings are believable.**

**Notes: Thanks again for the response, alerters and reviewers ^^ Especially the reviewers; I mean wow! What a great response! Thanks guys! I hope you lot keep this up, cause it makes me grin like a loony every time I see there's a new review :P**

**Also, for my first prompter: I was thinking about doing something Wevid-related myself, so I'll be able to incorporate that quite nicely. Will be up soon^^**

**Also: This one's later than I expected, but I'm up to over my ears in exams and dossiers, and they kinda come first.**

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><p>"You know what I really don't get?", a frazzled looking Blaine asked Kurt as they walked towards the larger common room, both with their arms loaded with books.<p>

"French?", Kurt guessed, thinking back to how he had attempted to tutor his friend in the subject but had had to stop doing so because his ears very nearly started bleeding because of his terrible pronunciation. That, and the fact that he had to stop himself from laughing too hard, because it made Blaine look like a kicked puppy and Kurt really didn't want to be the one to put that look on his face.

"No. Well, yeah, that too, but that's not what I meant.", Blaine answered, hoisting the books in his arms up a bit. "I don't get why we get normal coursework all through the year, and when the weather starts getting better we're suddenly loaded down with assignments, extra essays and exams."

Kurt, after having rolled his eyes at his friend's idea of 'normal coursework' –because, really, normal for Dalton was twice as much than the work he had had to do at McKinley- responded, quickly catching one of the books that slid from Blaine's arms: "It's because they hate us, Blaine. That's why they became teachers. To torture poor, unsuspecting students."

"Thanks. Makes sense, I suppose," the curly haired soloist responded, proving how sick he truly was of all the extra work. Usually, he'd have at least tried to defend the teachers.

When they neared the common room Kurt swiftly took a few steps forward, using his longer legs to his advantage. Bumping the door open with his hip, he held it open, waiting for Blaine to slip by, stack of books wobbling dangerously.

Stepping in to the room, Kurt stopped dead in his tracks. The room was a mess. Boys were spread all around, books were lying on floors, tables, chairs, window sills and the mantle above the fireplace. Some boys looked like they hadn't slept in days, while others were obviously hyped up on coffee. There was also no place for Kurt and Blaine to sit that wasn't on the floor. And there was no way Kurt Elijah Hummel was going to sit on that floor. No matter how clean it usually was.

Then, as if it was a gift from Gaga herself, Kurt spotted an empty couch cushion. His dramatic mind even pictured a halo of light around it. He shifted the books in his arms some, so he had one hand free and poked Blaine on the arm softly.

"There's a spot over there, come on!", he said, smiling, and started walking towards the empty seat. When he was about to set his books down however, two things happened at once: Blaine dropped his books, arms outstretched towards Kurt as if he was trying to stop him from making a big mistake, and all the boys in the room stopped what they was doing, shouting "NO!", with big eyes and scared expressions on their face.

Ass about two inches from touching the cushion, Kurt froze, looking at the boys staring at him. He straightened up, he sat his books down on the table in front of the couch and assumed the diva-position that was well known at McKinley, but rarely seen at Dalton; one hip cocked out, a perfectly manicured hand resting on it, and eyebrows set in a way that suggest he'd like some answers now, please.

"Alright," he said, drawing the word out some. "And why, pray tell, can't I sit on that particular couch cushion?"

None of the boys seemed all that willing to answer the question, while faced with Kurt's bitch- face. Blaine dropped to the ground to pick up his books, Wes started to polish his gavel while questioning David about the Civil War, Trent went back to his calculus notes, not noticing that they were upside down and some boys just tried to avoid answering by pretending to read while simultaneously waiting to hear if anyone would explain. Fortunately, Kurt's walking, talking rulebooks decided to stop quizzing each other in Spanish –which both were equally bad at, by the way- and approach him.

"Never fear, Kurtie-dear," Nick grinned at his awesome rhyming- skills. "We're here to educate you some more."

"Another rule?", Kurt guessed.

"You got it, bud," Jeff answered, dropping down to sit on the floor, Nick quickly following. Upon seeing that Kurt had no intention of following them down they looked at each other, rolled their eyes and each grabbed one of Kurt's pant legs to pull him down. Which he did, with a very undignified squawk.

"Do tell then, before my pants are ruined."

Nick and Jeff grinned at each other, both wanting to tell this story, but both eager to hear it told again as well. In the end, Nick started the explanation.

"Okay, so, last year there was a little accident in this common room, involving that particular cushion."

Kurt raised a brow, wondering why the title 'little accident' caused the boys around them to snicker.

"Yeah, an _accident_," Jeff emphasised, deciding it was his turn to tell the story.

"You see Kurt," he continued, "Not all Dalton boys are as _well-adjusted_ and gentlemanly as, say, Thad Thornton."

Thad, who had been eavesdropping shamelessly, put on his council member expression and accused: "You mock me sir!". And was promptly ignored, 'cause, well, he said this a lot.

"Right," Jeff continued, "Sometimes, a Dalton student or two can't take the rules and regulations anymore and feels the need to rebel a bit."

"One day, about a year and a half ago –I remember, 'cause it was a few days after our Blainey-boy arrived," Nick stole the story again, making Kurt's head swivel in his direction, "Two boys who shall remain unnamed—"

Here, Cameron, who was seated on one of the couch cushion you could actually sit on, coughed something that sounded suspiciously like _"coughWesandDavidcoughcough"_. Kurt raised an eyebrow.

"Who shall _remain unnamed_," Nick emphasised, glaring at a grinning Cameron, "brought gear to school that they used in their free time to let off some steam somewhere the gear was actually allowed to be used. They were planning on spending the evening relaxing at the range."

Kurt looked confused, mouthing the word 'range' to himself, wondering how that could possibly be connected to Wes and David—sorry, two unnamed Dalton students.

"Anyway, long story short," Jeff continued where Nick left off, " these two anonymous boys were doing their calculus homework before leaving and one of them just _snapped_ and pulled part of his gear out of his bag."

He paused, chuckling. "Imagine everyone's surprise when it turned out to be a paintball gun he was pointing at his calc. homework threateningly."

Kurt's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. No way. Actually, yes. Yes way. He could totally imagine Wes –because David truly was less likely to snap like that over something that wasn't his bizarre girlfriend Daisy- snap and try to threaten his homework into being less difficult. He grinned, suddenly imagining the paintball gun and Angie the Gavel in an epic battle for Wes's affections.

Nick said: "Of course, that was the cue for the other boy to pull out his own paintball gun. To this day neither of them will admit who started it, and none of the boys that witnessed the event know for certain either. All I know is that suddenly they weren't threatening their homework anymore, but each other."

"As someone who actually witnessed this, let me finish the story," Jeff continued, "It was chaos. The boys started chasing each other through the room, jumping up and over furniture and other boys to get to each other. After a few minutes of this, the first pellet was fired, hitting a lamp. The next, paint was flying everywhere and the boys not chasing each other were trying to save their homework and themselves. Flint, who sat right where you're sitting now, pulled that cushion from the couch to protect himself, and, well…"

Jeff spoke no further words, instead choosing to take the cushion from the couch and showing the bottom side of it to Kurt. Kurt's eyes nearly fell from their sockets at what he saw. The entire side of the cushion was painted a mixture of bright green and pink and there were slight holes where the pellets must have hit the cushion.

"We generally try to avoid sitting on the cushion, 'cause the last time someone sat on it, paint leaked out from it a bit and permanently destroyed his trousers." Nick said.

Kurt let out a surprised breath, leaning his back against the coffee table where he had put his books on. He thought back to how he had viewed the Dalton boys –and the Warblers in particular- when he had first came to spy on them back in early November. He had thought them to be all prim and proper and charming and dapper. He chuckled, thinking how wrong he had been.

"My first image of you boys was totally off, wasn't it?" he asked, rhetorically.

"You'd be surprised at how often we hear that," Jeff grinned.

A snort.

"You know, I really don't think I would be."

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><p>Rule number three: Spontaneous paintball fights are prohibited.<p>

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><p><strong>I'd love to know your thoughts and prompts and all that^^<strong>

**Till next time!**


	5. Rule 4: Furniture removal

**Titel: The Warbler Handbook**

**Chapter three: Rule number**** 4: Furniture removal**

**Summary: The oddities of our favourite Warblers, as explained by Nick and Jeff to a disbelieving Kurt, who wonders why he's only hearing about all this five months in.**

**Categories: Humor/ Friendship/ Romance**

**Rating: T for some potty- mouthed Warblers**

**Pairings: Blaine/ Kurt. I'm not sure on anyone else yet, but I'm open to suggestions. And by that I mean: please tell me what you'd like to see or what your favourite pairings are. No guarantees that I'll actually work them in, but odds are good as long as the pairings are believable.**** Also, I've got plans for Jeff. They're alluded to in my other story, **_**"Of Warblers and Woods**_**", to which I see this as a companion piece to. The OC's that will start to pop up here won't make a hell of a lot of sense unless you've read that. It's a suggestion.**

**Notes: Thanks again for the response, alerters and reviewers ^^ Especially the reviewers; I mean wow! What a great response! Thanks guys! I hope you lot keep this up, cause it makes me grin like a loony every time I see there's a new review :P**

**Also, for my first prompter**** (still, I know): I was thinking about doing something Wevid-related myself, so I'll be able to incorporate that quite nicely. Will be up soon^^**

**Also: This one's later than I expected, but I'm up to over my ears in exams and dossiers, and they kinda come first.**** I started writing this part on the trainride home from an exam I'm pretty sure I failed and finished it while watching the world-wide premier of HP 7.2 via Facebook while I probably should've been studying for my educational psychology exam I have to take tomorrow. I was watching it, and all of a sudden – wearing a blue tux that looked awesome on him, I might add- a wild Darren Criss filled the frame, doing a very exited jump for a camera. I nearly lost it when the voice-over said: "Oh! He's happy. He looks happy to be here…".**

**If you've seen it, tell me what you thought of it, please. ^^**

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><p>Going to lunch on Monday turned out to be a bit of an experience.<p>

After a rather calm weekend (meaning that he had only had two gossip sessions with his girls and only had to explain the microwave to Finn three times on Saturday instead of the usual five) Kurt had gone back to Dalton at a reasonable time, stopping to pick up coffee on the way. He had done his calculus homework while being stuck in the usual morning congestion, as he had counted on when he had decided to procrastinate some on Sunday. He had dropped off his weekend bag in his room in time to wake his roommate (lucky sod didn't have a first period due to having tested out of Latin, nerd that he was) and had walked into his first period classroom with five minutes still to spare, in which he drank the last of his coffee and pulled out the calculus homework he had just finished. All in all, a typical start to the week.

He spent almost the entire first period trying to retrain himself from laughing at the expressions that crossed the face of the Warbler two seats in front of him and to his right. Poor Jason had never been all that good at anything even vaguely resembling Maths and Calculus first thing on Monday morning had proven to be hell for the boy. Incredibly entertaining for the rest of the class, though.

In his third period in AP French, Kurt had taken great pleasure in confusing David by insulting his poor fashion choices in French, only being nice in telling him he was at least marginally better in dressing himself than Thad was, but that it wasn't that hard seeing as Thad dressed himself like he was a colour blind spider monkey dressing himself in the dark. David, who shouldn't even really be in AP French since he still didn't really know the difference between _être_ and _avoir_, gave up trying to make sense of what the countertenor was saying to him with such passion in his voice after trying to translate the French word for 'sweater vest' (ok, so maybe he threw a Mr. Schuester comparison in there as well) and came up with 'refrigerator', which wasn't even close.

By the time lunch came about, Kurt was feeling pretty good. That changed a bit when he walked around the corner of a hallway leading to the cafeteria and saw Blaine Anderson, lead soloist and best gay friend, being spoken to by the school's headmaster (because Dalton was not plebeian enough to have a _principal_). The dapper boy was wiggling in his shoes a bit, something he didn't normally do, and the headmaster was noticing… and frowning?

Why would Mr. Dean (and boy, wasn't that an ironic last name for a headmaster?) be frowning at Blaine's shoes? Granted, they weren't the best choice to wear with the school uniform, but they were very nice regardless. All shiny, and black, probably Italian and obviously expensive. Also…new? Kurt hadn't seen those shoes on Blaine before, and he was pretty sure Blaine usually asked for advice on fashion purchases (because, for a gay guy, his fashion instincts were nearly non- existent) or at least told him about them.

As Kurt felt two increasingly familiar presences coming to a stop besides him, the headmaster looked as if he was warning Blaine about something. Blaine looked down at his shoes, a dusting of red starting to colour his cheeks, merely shook his head in answer to whatever it was Mr. Dean was saying and refused to look up from his shoes, seemingly admiring them.

"Oh lord," a voice from beside Kurt said. Kurt looked at the voice and immediately recognised Jeff's blonde hair – to be honest, he was actually doubting the authenticity of the hair colour which was a strange sensation, considering he usually just _knew_ whether a hair colour came from a bottle or not. Jeff looked as if he was staring into the eyes of an army solely out to destroy him.

On Kurt's other side, Nick didn't look much better. "He's wearing new shoes."

Kurt raised an eyebrow, staring at Blaine still admiring his shoes and the headmaster still talking at him. "Yeah, he is," he said. "And he didn't even run them by me first."

"Not really the problem we're seeing here, Kurt," Jeff responded, slowly starting to gain the colour back in his cheeks. At Kurt's confused look, he explained further: "See, when someone gets new shoes, these shoes need to be walked out a bit."

Kurt, being the fashionista he is, of course knew this already. "Of course. They'll hurt like hell if you don't."

"Exactly," Nick said. "Only Blaine doesn't exactly _walk_ them out, per se. He tends to, er, _dance_ them out."

"Come again?" Kurt asked, tearing his eyes away from the boy with the fabulous new shoes that made him look even more handsome dapper.

"You know how when Blaine sings, he tends to climb on sofas and tables?" Jeff asked, taking out his cell phone.

At Kurt's nod, Nick continued: "When he's got new shoes however, it usually gets worse and public spectacles are common place. Jeff?"

"On it!" the blonde Warbler replied, fingers typing away at his BlackBerry's keyboard.

"What's he doing?" Kurt asked, eying the rapid typing.

"Sending a mass 4724362347- text to the Warblers." Nick calmly answered, smiling when his own phone buzzed in his pocket, a sign that the text had been sent.

"A what now?" Kurt asked, frowning as he pulled out his own phone, where sure enough the numbers flashed on his screen.

"Stands for 4x7, 2x4, 3x6, 2x3 and 4x7 again." Jeff replied, putting his phone away again.

"Which in text-speak," Nick continued, "stands for 'SHOES'."

"I really don't see how Blaine wearing new shoes could be detrimental in any way," Kurt said, tucking his phone away and looking back to where Blaine and the headmaster….. used to be. "Hey, where did Blaine go?"

The other two Warblers exchanged panicked looks.

"Oh damn," Jeff muttered, "he's got a head start."

Nick hooked one of his arms through one of Kurt's and started to march to the cafeteria, Jeff swiftly following.

"We need to nip this in the bud. Now."

When they got to the cafeteria however, they were already too late. Blaine was sat on the back of a chair, with his feet on the seat. The Warblers who had read the text Jeff had sent out were watching the shoes on them in a very dramatic manner. And Kurt knew his drama.

Before Kurt could take a seat, Blaine was already speaking to him, a big, dopey grin on his face:

"Look Kurt! My mom brought new shoes back for me from Milan. Aren't they amazing?"

"They look good, Blaine," Kurt answered, not really understanding why everyone was shooting him _'stop- talking- now- you- ignorant- fool!_'- looks.

"I'm glad you feel that way, Kurt," Blaine said, "Because you know…."

The curly haired lead soloist started drumming out a beat with his fingers and the Warblers present – while sending Kurt '_what- have- you- done- now?'-_ looks started to play the harmony with their voices upon recognising it. Before he knew it, Blaine had climbed up on the table and started singing.

_Woke up cold one Tuesday,_

_I'm looking tired and feeling quite sick,_

_I felt like there was something missing in my day to day life,_

_So I quickly opened the wardrobe,_

_Pulled out some jeans and a T-Shirt that seemed clean,_

_Topped it off with a pair of old shoes,_

_That were ripped around the seams,_

_And I thought these shoes just don't suit me._

He was making sad faces all through this verse, making some of the other boys present in the cafeteria laugh, while the lunch ladies where trying to stealthily hide the dishes they had just brought out for some reason. All of a sudden, Blaine started really grooving out to the music while the chorus started, Thad and Wes reluctantly filling in as backing vocals.

_Hey, I put some new shoes on,_

_And suddenly everything is right,_

_I said, hey, I put some new shoes on and everybody's smiling,_

_It's so inviting,_

_Oh, short on money,_

_But long on time,_

_Slowly strolling in the sweet sunshine,_

_And I'm running late,_

_And I don't need an excuse,_

_'cause I'm wearing my brand new shoes._

_Woke up late one Thursday,_

_And I'm seeing stars as I'm rubbing my eyes,_

_And I felt like there were two days missing,_

_As I focused on the time,_

_And I made my way to the kitchen,_

_But I had to stop from the shock of what I found,_

_A room full of all off my friends dancing round and round,_

_And I thought hello new shoes,_

_Bye bye them blues._

At the line saying that he was going to the kitchen, he actually jumped from the table onto the next – for some strange reason actually managing to avoid getting drowsed in food and jumped from the last table up onto the food displays, still grooving out to the music. Kurt looked on with wide eyes.

_Hey, I put some new shoes on,_

_And suddenly everything is right,_

_I said, hey, I put some new shoes on and everybody's smiling,_

_It's so inviting,_

_Oh, short on money,_

_But long on time,_

_Slowly strolling in the sweet sunshine,_

_And I'm running late,_

_And I don't need an excuse,_

_'cause I'm wearing my brand new shoes._

By the time the verse was done, Blaine had made his way over nearly all of the surfaces that were even remotely higher than the floor. He had walked all over the tables, some free chairs, the food displays, the check -out desk, some unfortunate guy's backpack and the window sills.

_Take me wandering through these streets,_

_Where bright lights and angels meet,_

_Stone to stone they take me on,_

_I'm walking to the break of dawn_

_I'm walking to the break of dawn_

_Hey, I put some new shoes on,_

_And suddenly everything is right,_

_I said, hey, I put some new shoes on and everybody's smiling,_

_It's so inviting,_

_Oh, short on money,_

_But long on time,_

_Slowly strolling in the sweet sunshine,_

_And I'm running late,_

_And I don't need an excuse,_

_'cause I'm wearing my brand new shoes._

_Hey, I put some new shoes on,_

_And suddenly everything is right,_

_I said, hey, I put some new shoes on and everybody's smiling,_

_It's so inviting,_

_Oh, short on money,_

_But long on time,_

_Slowly strolling in the sweet sunshine,_

_And I'm running late,_

_And I don't need an excuse,_

_'cause I'm wearing my brand new shoes._

_Take me wandering through these streets _

At the end of the song, he was right back where he started: sitting on the chair he was sitting on when Kurt walked in, calmly starting to eat the rest of his food while the rest of the boys present were starting to do the same. Kurt sat down on an empty chair, resolutely ignoring the fact that there was a shoe print on it, and started to hope that he would wake up and Blaine being all un-dapper because of a pair of shoes had just been a dream.

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><p>Rule number four: When Blaine sings, hide the furniture.<p>

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><p><strong>So? Let me know your thoughts!<strong>

**Also, for those of you actually reading 'Of Warblers and Woods' and wondering at the delay for the next chapter: It's coming. Slowly, but it'll be there soon. I'm hoping this weekend even. I've had to spent so much time on school these last few weeks that I haven't really found the time for it. It's not abandoned though, don't fear. It's going to be a big chapter too. I've started it, and I'm already on 750 words, and I'm not even a quarter there yet.**


	6. We all saw this comingsorry!

I hate to have to do this, but I'm officially _**putting this story up for adoption.**_

Between school, internship, my job, tutoring and the teeny tiny bit of a social life I've managed to retain I hardly have time to update my stories, and this one is unfortunately at the bottom of my priority list. Just because I don't see myself finishing it though, that doesn't mean I don't want it to be finished. I'd love it if one of you lovely people would adopt it and finish it.

Please PM me, message me on Tumblr or even email me if you're interested in finishing this story. I'd hate to see it completely die.

-R.


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